Hold On For a Bit
by CaptainTsukiko
Summary: Takaba is determined to keep his freedom in check - but he wavers for the first time, when he realises how much he is already being claimed by Asami.
I have a habit of putting... things in my mouth.

And no, I'm not talking about Asami's cock, you sick bastards. However exciting that may— did I just day that, no I didn't.

Mostly things I haven't tested and things that are, obviously, food related. (Because it's food. Food isn't something to be interviewed, they're meant to be in your belly.) I don't check its smell or how it looks. And I do realise what a stupid little bitch that makes me, and I take responsibility that this is what gets me into trouble.

Narcotics, hanging out with crime bosses that could kidnap you and _kill you any fucking moment,_ you know. The _usual_ things that happen to _normal_ people. Feilong got me and that one bar girl who I'll never forgive - Asami, Asami and goddamn Asami.

Back to the point, I've noticed something strange with my body recently. Dull senses, relaxed muscles and spending longer hours asleep. (I think I've called the shots on the biggest sleeping time in Guinness world record.)

This is... creepy. To say the least.

My career is being ruined. I can't work as I am already, and if I sleep longer - that makes my life hell and my senses tingling with approaching danger; insecurity.

I don't know how that's happening.

I think my food's being tampered with (and not dreams of silver-gold catty eyes filled with despair, long hair choking me deep in the sea.) 'The way to a man's heart is through his stomach,' remembering that makes me shiver now.

That should be the easiest way.

These days, I don't make my own food. The hotel does, and Glasses-San brings it to me. (Cut me some slack, the guy won't talk to me for shit.) If Asami wanted drug me, that would be the easiest time frame.

Drugs? Poison? Some love potion of doom?

I just want to know what the fuck is in my food.

.

[That's not true. Not really. Takaba bites back the jab of fear and the phantom dark noose tightening around his neck, hands shaking as he tries to put any semblance of his breaking defences back.]

.

The rooms are dark and cold-cold against Takaba's back. He hisses as his luggage digs into his heels, moving backwards wasn't such a good idea. He is trying, hard so hard, to steady his breathing.

Toes curl up and goosebumps rise. Takabs moves back even further into the shadows.

There's a silhouette in the room. Slithering closer to his water bottles like a snake. Takaba suddenly wants to close his eyes. Fighting the urge to scream from the sense of oh my god this is not happening—

"I'm sure the wall is cold. Come here."

"Fuck you."

"...How amusing you are."

Asami looks a little more than 'just amused' at his appearance. Pot on head and baseball bat squeezed into oblivion. (There's even scratch marks on it, wow.) Takaba just scoffs.

Great. Just so great.

"Were you planning an ambush?" Something in Asami's puckish voice mocks Akihito. I'm invincible and you're stupid. Like even the thought of it is impossible.

"What if I was."

Asami takes a glass, filled with sparkling water, and drops the tablet in his hand into it. Unhurried and elegant - its something that makes even Takaba wonder if he should be admiring those hands or trying to run the fuck away.

"Hey," it seems Takaba has decided. His eyes are wide with alarm, "I can see you." Raised eyebrows, deep set eyes and a deadpan face turns to him.

"And your point is."

(Takaba tries hard to not look at the bronze muscle in that neck, a bronze icon in flesh. A man shouldn't be that toned, really.) "Get the fuck away from my food supply. You've been tampering with my food haven't you? You bastard. Don't smile. It's true isn't it?! Don't play clueless goddammit."

Apparently, outbursts don't exactly work when you're a so-called independent, super mature Takaba Akihito.

"You've never heard of muscle relaxants, have you?"

"Ah?"

"Answer me this; would you be sleeping if I didn't give you medication?" Asami makes people feel like the bad guy, Ttakaba is sure he isn't the only one. "There are bags under your eyes."

Asami does that to people, yeah. Even so, Takaba checks the medicine strip.

"Let me take care of you, at least." How else do you want me to tell you that you're mine?

(Not tainted; not pure—all that is Asami Ryuichi.)

 _That's something that hits me like a rock._ Warm and syrupy and so very honey like in its force. Must be the weather. _And I feel guilty in my realisation._

Asami knows them all. The times Takaba's woken up to feel the phantom noose around his neck, ever so slightly tightened with each second. Hands moving everywhere on his body so he can't feel one place that doesn't feel the burning pain and the fear and pain that he's going to succumb to it. _(Asami ain't coming, little shit. Stop hoping.)_ It's not a pain that kills, it's a pain that makes you wish you'd killed yourself.

A little bird stuck in a destroyed cage, too afraid to step out and realise that he's finally free.

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. Have you forgotten what you are?

"Sorry."

 _I never tell anyone sorry. Never. Except this guy who answers my horrors._

[And who will walk with him, if Takaba admits he belongs here, closely knit in the arms of danger.]

.

The windows are open, sporadic winds slightly hitting my cooling body. I'm sure Asami is asleep, even if it's a full moon's night and his body is way too energetic. I feel calm.

His arms close around me, a warm hand down the waistline. His breaths are slow, low, like he's been hiding it. I almost can't feel him until his heartbeat is pounding against my body. It burns. My back wher his heart pounds against, my ass after he pounded it, my face burns with blushes I don't want anyone to see. Hell, my whole body burns up and..

I feel loved.


End file.
